


No Quarter

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Another Chance at the Brass Ring, or Season 9 Fan Fiction [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A Little More Human, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Day at Black Rock, Blood and Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Coptic Cross, Destiel - Freeform, Dragons, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Explicit Language, Friendly Freaks, Gen, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Messages from the Beyond, Monster mash, Nightmares, One Hundred Mile Wilderness, Phoenixes, Post-Break Up, Protective Castiel, Purgatory, Reapers, Rise and Shine, Season/Series 09, Separations, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Slash, Torture, Vampires, Vengeful Castiel, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-23 06:28:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean attempts to contact Benny in Purgatory while Sam tries to settle things between Castiel and Dean, but new dangers and a stranger seeking aid draw them deeper into the hole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. News that Must Get Through

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers** : All episodes through 08x20 Pac-Man Fever.

**Purgatory**. April 4, 2013. _"It does present a curious curl in the metaphysics, doesn't it? If you murder a monster in monster heaven, where does it go?"_

These were the first words Benny Lafitte thought after being torn limb from limb. He saw Sam Winchester whipped away by the portal, then felt slashes and gashes and finally, decapitation. 

Technically, he shouldn't be thinking at all, having been killed on earth and again in Purgatory. But, should thought still be available to him, why exactly was he thinking of the stupid angel that bogged his initial escape from this place? Worse, he had a strong desire to find the angel and fill him in.

When a monster dies in purgatory, the soul moves to another layer. The word 'layer' or 'level' is not, as it happens, a good descriptor, as it inspires parallels to cake and onions and other ridiculous examples that don't properly encapsulate the complexity of an alternative plane of existence. 

After dying on earth, death didn't really stick. That didn't stop it from hurting like hell, but it did make the entire situation a little more manageable for Benny, who had just been ejected from the initial plane to a plane filled with individuals he, Dean, and the angel had killed the year before. 

Curiosity grabbed the vampire; he had to investigate more. He had all of eternity after all. Why not better himself with his time? Over the next month, Benny hunted down werewolves, vampires, vatela, kitsune, anything that'd been there long enough to know anything useful. He learned the best bet was a dragon, even though slaying a dragon was almost as difficult as dealing with Leviathans. 

Benny uncovered quite a bit. The initial plane, or entry plane, of purgatory was the first stop for all newly dead monsters, with exceptions for certain species, certain modes of death, that kind of thing. Only the strongest and fastest of the ranks maintained position in this plane, which is closest to Earth, to Hell, and, rumor has it, to Heaven, too.

This movement of souls caused a general coalescence of personality types unknown to the entry sector of purgatory. Nonviolent monsters, being killed frequently, ended up in some deep rung of the plane. Of course, some individuals could traverse the different layers of their own accord. Eve had free reign of the general area, and Alphas seemed to inherit her wiles, as did many of the Leviathan.

It wasn't long after that Benny heard whispers about demons in purgatory. The idea was ridiculous, but again, curiosity pushed him forward.

 

 **Earth**. September 15, 2013.  
Dean walked along a dark corridor. No windows. No doors. No exit. He wondered why he wasn't panicking. Before he could think too hard, the darkness turned to blood, and suddenly the ocean around Dean smelled of decay and iron and the taste stuck in his mouth. 

Yet he remained unafraid.

It all stopped. Fire and blood and darkness. All that he could make out in the dimming tide was a name: Andrew Hickles. 

Dean jerked awake. He was on a couch. In a cabin. He must've fallen asleep. Before he forgot, he grabbed a piece of paper and pen and scribbled down the name. A few moments after that, he fell back asleep.

 

The next morning, Dean scouted out the place. It's a single level cabin with a deep basement. There's no panic room, but he could fix that. He walked the outside. The landscaping didn't need anything. Located near Wall, South Dakota, the cabin was well hidden among the rocks of the badlands, yet it was also near the highway. It even had a nook to park two or three cars, if needed. It was the perfect place for a hideout. 

Gordon Walker used this place before, or at least that's what Bobby wrote in one of his infinite notebooks. In Latin. Freaking Latin! After Sam translated it, they'd both assumed it had been destroyed some time ago. 

After the destruction of Rufus's Cabin, and Dean's stomach lurched at the very thought of it, he needed to set up other safe houses. Places to stash people or to hide out, so as to not attract too much attention to the Bunker's location. 

The place hadn't been used for at least five years, so a cleaning was definitely needed. A purification ritual, definitely, just in case. Then sigils, hex bags, a panic room. Maybe a week's worth of work. 

Dean needed this. Something to do that wasn't life-and-death, located somewhere other than the Bunker, where Cas needed to be.

Damn it, he kept thinking about Cas, and every time he did that, his brain played through the arguments, which melted down to Dean pleading with the angel to stay at the Bunker, the only place he could safely dodge the God Squad. Dean threw a punch into the cabin's wall. And now his hand hurt.

He picked up his phone and stared at Sam's number for a while. Did he want to know how things were going?

He decided he didn't, so he texted Sam an update. He'd be here for a week.

In reality, he didn't think it'd take him more than a day or two to do basic preparation, but it'd take him at least a day to drive out to Maine and dig up Benny, then another to drive back. And he needed a little more time to figure out how to bring him back. 

Dean remembered the name he'd written down. If Benny was sending him messages from the beyond, then the name of someone to help him get Benny back would be sensible. 

Sam texted him back immediately. "Will haul supplies up to you tomorrow."

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam really couldn't give him any freaking space, could he? But he wanted to see his brother. He wanted an update on Cas. 

Damn it, now he's thinking about the angel again.


	2. Blowing Cold

**Purgatory**. May 12, 2013.  
Benny specifically avoided certain species, like shifters or skinwalkers, because they could become, well, anything. But on his third level of purgatory, he found himself squared up to none other than the Alpha Shifter, currently taking the form of Andrea, her human form. Apparently his digging into mystical truths ruffled some feathers. 

"So you're the one," Shifter-Andrea mused. "Helped the Winchesters. Escaped from purgatory. Impressive."

"News sure travels fast 'round here," Benny said, certain this conversation would come to no good. 

"From what I understand, you and those, uh, pesky humans got quite a rapport."

"Yeah, an' what's it to you aga'n?" 

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not happy to see a local taking to humans like them," Shifter-Andrea commented. "But right now, enemy of my enemy is in play."

"Is tha' right?"

Shifter-Andrea morphed into Sam Winchester as he said, "All the demons are now banished from the plane of the earth. By one of those same Winchesters."

"Good on them, then," Benny replied. "So what?"

"You know demons, always scheming. First trying to steal all the souls in purgatory, now getting their foothold back on earth," Shifter-Sam smiled as Benny circled him. "Imagine that. Demons piggybacked onto some of us, brought topside. Tell me, who do you think their first targets are gonna be?"

"You make it soun' so easy, but let's be real here. It took a livin' human to smuggle me out, there ain't no way for just anyone to hop outta here, piggybackin' or otherwise," Benny replied mildly, gearing himself to attack. "You wanna screw with someone, don't pick an expert, huh?"

"That's true. I'm not quite sure how that's going to happen, child," Shifter-Sam smiled weakly. "Fact remains, there is a plan, and something has started."

"An' how do you know tha'?" Benny asked.

"They asked me to be a mule, obviously," the Shifter-Sam flourished. "But you see, the King of Hell dropped me in here because of his little quest, and I have no interest in letting him, or any demon, accumulate power."

"So, wha', you're just tellin' me outta the goodness of your heart? Warn me my friends are gonna die, knowin' I can't do a thing abou' it anymore?" Benny spat. 

"If you couldn't do anything, you'd've never escaped here in the first place, boy. No, you're resourceful, and now you know demons will be hankering for your old besties on earth, I think you'll find a way."

Sam-Shifter morphed into Dean Winchester this time, "How's about I give you a leg up on your little journey?" With that, the Alpha moved like lightning and decapitated Benny.

 

 **Earth**. September 17, 2013.  
Sam arrived with his pickup loaded with sheets of iron, wood, and miscellaneous building materials. He hesitated before getting out. He knew Dean wanted to be alone, which usually meant he needed to brace himself for what he was about to see. 

He knocked on the cabin door. No answer. He knocked again. No answer. So he popped it open and made a mental note that the place needed real locks.

"Dean?"

His brother was mid-way through a house purification, adding hex bags to punched holes on each corner of the house. He didn't respond.

"Dean?"

Dean turned around, and he looked okay. "Sam, when did you get here?"

"Now. Didn't you hear me knocking?"

He shook his head. That can't be a good thing. 

"Well, I've got some stuff in the truck, if you wanna help me unload it."

"Yeah, sure, be right out," he replied. He dropped the last of the hex bags into the walls.

Sam waited out at the truck. When his brother pounded out the door, he tested the waters. "How've you been?" 

"Busy."

He didn't ask about Castiel. Sam indicated the sheets of iron, and they began bringing them into the cabin and then down to the basement. 

Over two hours passed in silence, except for the music Dean put on via tape player. Sam had half a mind to tease him about the ancient technology but held back in case it was too soon. 

By the time they finished with the wood, Sam had had enough.

"Okay, so, what's going on?" 

"This place will be a good hideaway," Dean explained. "Shouldn't take more than a week to fix up."

"I can help," Sam offered.

"Sam," Dean started. "You can, yeah, but I wanna do this myself."

"Cas wants to know if you're okay," Sam slid in.

"I'm fine."

"That means you're fucked up, Dean," Sam pointed out. "And he's not telling me anything. So can you enlighten me?"

"We had a fight."

"Okay."

"We broke up."

Sam didn't understand. "What?"

"You heard me."

"Because you had a fight?"

"Because of a lot of shit, Sam," Dean's voice was rising quickly. "What does it matter?"

"I know long term relationships aren't what you're versed in, Dean, but usually when you break up with someone you care about over a fight, you make up and get back together," Sam explained, as calmly as physically possible. 

"Shut up, Sam," Dean snapped. 

He stormed back into the cabin, and Sam pursued him. 

"What the hell is going on?" he said, pushing through the door.

"Reality, okay, that's what's going on."

"What does that even mean?"

"It means that a mortal dating an immortal has exactly two crappy outcomes, Sam."

"That's it?"

"'That's it?'" Dean mimed his brother flippantly. "Yes, that's fucking it."

Sam wasn't sure how to navigate this argument, but letting it go seemed far worse. "Dean, we're talking about you being happy for the first time in, how many years? And you're walking away from that because you're mortal?"

"And other crap, too," Dean muttered. 

"If you want to stew in this, fine, I'll let you, but do me a favor while you're at it. Stop being an idiot and get over yourself."

Dean wanted to snap back at Sam, but before he had a chance, Sam added, "He misses you, and I've had to guilt the crap of him to keep him from leaving the damn bunker."

"He promise me he'd stay if I gave him space," Dean squawked. "He can't welch on that."

"You left a broken-hearted and pissed off angel, Dean, and, what, expected me to be able to keep him in check?"

"If he's that much of a flight risk, what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn't you be watching him?"

Sam laughed. "He can teleport. Me being there won't change that."

Dean bit his lip and turned away from his brother. "I don't care if you have to stick his ass in a ring of holy fire, Sam, you can't let him leave the bunker."

"Fine. I will keep him at the bunker and let you stew here, on one condition."

"Which is?"

"You filling me in over lunch," Sam replied.

"No way."

"Believe it or not Dean, I might actually be able to help. But I can't do a thing when I don't know anything."

Silence. He waited for a reply. None came. Sam didn't want to resort to manipulation, but apparently that's what he needed to do.

"We're talking about his life here, you get that?" Sam asked. "What, you can stare down major bitch angel, slash heads off of everything in purgatory, and face hell and heaven for Cas, but you can't talk about your feelings? Really Dean?"

"Fine," Dean grunted. "But we don't talk about this shit ever again."

 

 **Purgatory**. May 12, 2013.  
Benny woke up on another level, but it wasn't quite like the other places he'd been. The stark colors were different; almost like a fairy tale, a bedtime story, if monsters had those. 

He saw it not too far off. Castle wasn't quite right, as it wasn't an enclosure or habitat. Only humans really needed those. But the place wasn't a ruin of a castle, either; it was built to be magnificent but not confining. 

Dragons flew overhead. 

"Oh, hell," Benny said to himself. The Alpha Shifter sent him here, he just knew it.

 

 **Earth**. September 17, 2013.  
Sam wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what had caused a medium-sized implosion at the bunker a few days ago, but he had an inkling it was something like this. Dean being Dean, essentially. 

After their unpleasant conversation over lunch, which attracted a few too many side-glances, he convinced his brother to crash in a motel just in case anyone had caught their scent. 

"I don't have any of my crap," Dean complained as the got into the room.

Sam threw him a bag. "You said about a week. Figured you need more stuff," he said nonchalantly. "So I packed a bag."

Dean didn't comment on his brother's creepy preparedness. He pulled out a sleep shirt and pants and went to change. As he pulled the shirt on, he felt a warm comfort in his chest. He didn't think about it; he chalked it up to the shirt being one of his oldest and favorites. 

"It's going to be all right," Sam said. "Cas will be fine. You and Cas will be fine."

"Right," Dean replied. He hated telling people things, but telling Sam crap could be infuriating. He acted like this was just normal relationship stuff, right up there with fighting about when to have kids or how many. He didn't seem to think the immortal/mortal paradigm was any different; he didn't even blink when Dean explained that Cas offered to cut out his grace and become human. To Sam, that was just like agreeing to three kids instead of ten. 

But it wasn't. Dean tried every possible way to explain that no one really knew what happened to angels-become-humans when they died. Would Cas have a soul? If he did, would it be allowed to pass into heaven? Or would it be shunted off somewhere else?

"That's not in your control, Dean," Sam had said. "And as far as I know, not in Cas's either. Why not choose to be happy now?"

It's like Sam had become an idiot all of a sudden. Like he didn't know what happened after death. Like he didn't know what it was like to flee for his life in purgatory or be burned alive in hell. 

Dean would've continued his sulking, had it not been for the ball of fire that burned brightly outside. 

"What the hell?" Dean said.

"You can say that again," Sam responded, getting up and grabbing a gun. He poked his head out the window. "I don't see anything," he commented.

There was a knock at the door. 

"Seriously?" Dean asked looking through the peephole. It was a short young woman, maybe in her early thirties. 

Sam backed up and aimed for the door. Dean opened it.

"Hi," she said. "Might be crazy, but I need to know, which one of you is an angel?"

"Neither," Dean grunted. 

Her eyes narrowed. "Then why do you smell like one?"

Dean remembered that his nightshirt was among those he gave to Cas before he got his own wardrobe. That's why it was so comforting; the damn thing smelled like him. 

"Who are you?" Sam snapped. 

The woman turned her head. "You can put that down, I'm not here to fight," she turned her head back to Dean. "But you're not an angel."

"No, I'm not," he said. He punched her in the face. 

She didn't flinch or punch back. When Dean made another move on her, she stepped into the room and pushed him back on the bed. It was a shove, not a throw or a supernatural slam, like she was being gentle. 

Sam aimed to fire, and his gun was across the room. 

"I'm not here to fight." She repeated, "I'm just looking for a little help."

"Pass," Dean spat.

"Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Kuravi," she said. "You two are?"

Dean grabbed the shotgun he kept under his pillow. "I'm Dean, that's Sam. Nice to meet you."

Bang! The bullet hit her in the head. She closed her eyes, and the wound knit itself back together. 

"Not. Here. To. Fight." She repeated. She looked at Dean, "Listen, Angel Snuggles, we're on the same side."

"And what side is that?" Sam barked.

"Life. Love. Good. Well, medium-good," she remarked thoughtfully. "Not righteous-all-in-white good."

"Sure you are," Dean put in, giving time for Sam to throw a brass knife, hitting her square in the chest. 

She looked down and pulled it out. Again, not a scratch remained on her. "Brass? Huh. I expected silver." 

Dean shot a silver bullet, which popped right back out of her as she healed. She looked at both of them. "As you can see, I'm a healer, not a fighter."

"We're not buying what you're selling," Sam snapped, throwing a combination of holy water, borax, and salt her way. Nothing happened.

"I'm guessing I'm not going to persuade you," she stated quietly. 

Sam seethed over the fact that he didn't have the colt on him. Dean, meanwhile, took the iron-round shotgun and aimed it at her. Before he could fire, flame erupted around her, and she vanished. The sound of a bird of prey echoed throughout the room.

"Awesome."

 

Dean added the iron sheets to the walls of the basement. He marked out sigils and scattered hex bags. He added one of Charlie's weird gadgets for communication. He installed a generator, which he managed to convince Sam to help him steal before leaving.

By the end of the day, Dean felt proud of his new hide out. He took a break, washed up, and ate. 

He turned to the paper with the name from his dream. He didn't tell Sam. Not yet. 

Dean started pulling up anyone and everyone with the name Andrew Hickles. The name wasn't that common, but there were still hundreds of names on his list. 

Dean started eliminating. He checked police reports, obituaries, even school records. Most hunters could be found on a general paper trail. It took him hours to eliminate half the people off the list, and it was dark when he managed to highlight a man who no longer had a listed address. Before that, he'd lived in six states in one year.

He hated how slow all this was. Sam could whip up answers with his sympathy and his technocrap. Cas was a billion year old encyclopedia. Even Charlie didn't have much trouble figuring out the answers to life, the universe, and everything. All Dean could do was hunt, poke, and hope he'd stir something up. 

He avoided calling other hunters. Putting feelers out was one thing, but he didn't want anyone catching wind of his work right now. Instead, he called up possible contacts associated with the Andrew Hickles he singled out and pissed more than a few of them off by doing it. 

Dean took a break from research and turned back to his work, fixing up the plumbing and adding more storage for a small weapons cache. 

It was two in the morning when he got a call. 

"You looking for me?" a man's voice came.

"Depends," Dean said. "Are you Andrew Hickles?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm just looking for a hunting buddy," Dean replied. "Really big game kinda thing."

"You mean like bear?"

"More like Leviathan."

Silence. Then the voice came again, "Why are you looking for me?"

"I gotta tip from someone you might be able to help me," Dean replied. "But I'm like you, I'm not so trusting. You know how to stop a Levi?"

"Decapitation," he replied. "Borax to slow it down."

"You are a hunter, then." 

"Tell me who you are, kid," Andrew demanded.

"Dean, Dean Sampson," he lied. 

"Never heard of you," Andrew replied. 

"Keeping my head low."

"Where did you get my name again?"

Dean decided a little bit of truth might be a good idea here. "Someone has been sending me nightmare-o-gram warnings. Your name was in one of them."

"Someone? A dead someone, I take it?"

"Yeah," Dean replied. "That's what I need help with. I need to know for sure he's the one sending them."

"Guessing you already tried a talking board?" he said.

"And psychics, and any other crazy I could muster."

"Resurrection spell?"

"I'm a hunter, not a witch," Dean snapped.

The voice on the other line laughed. "I can tell you feel the same way about witches as I do," he said. "Name's Andrew."

"Any possibility we can meet up in Maine, Andrew?"

"Name the place."


	3. Every Step

**Purgatory**. May 25, 2013.  
Benny never liked running. His legs weren't made for it, and surely his temperament wasn't either. Five days straight of nothing but running left him agitated. The Alpha Shifter sent him to a dragon-ridden sector of purgatory, which meant the entire layer had sentries patrolling the skies. He bumped into the occasional skinwalker or shifter here, but so far he was the sole vampire in this land. Benny was an easy target. 

He'd grown tired of this place in the few days he'd been here. As much as it hurt, Benny decide it was time to do something very stupid so he'd be blasted to another level. 

Benny started a fire on a large tree out in an opening. Sentries spotted the smoke and three of them touched down around the vampire. Benny knew there were different types of dragons. The newer dragons had fire, flying, and strength, but the older dragons came from a different stock. They had power over localized storms, water, and strength like a Leviathan. He wasn't aware there were those dragons who had water, storms, and flying until these sentries touched down. 

"Look, a little mouse," the green-blue sentry said. 

The purple-blue sentry put out the tree Benny had set on fire, revitalizing the vegetation. "Little bug."

"Little bee," the last sentry taunted. His golden-red complexion was hard to look at. 

Benny wanted out of this layer, but that didn't mean he planned to make it easy on them. Besides, he could use the practice. He swung out his weapon, which he made from shed dragon's claws twined with an elongated bone. 

"Flyin' lizards sure are chatty, huh?" Benny taunted back. "Ya'll could've just incinerated me, bu' here you are..."

He made the first move on the red/golden dragon, who he dubbed Goldilocks; this level did seem like a fairy tale, after all. Slash, crack, Goldilocks retreated with a heaving roar as the vampire struck off an arm, then slid the blade into his shoulder.

The green-blue sentry bounded forward just as Benny swung back, knocking him hard in the chin. The blade, made from dragon and covered with dragon's blood, had a disturbing effect on him: he fell stunned to the ground. Benny advanced and cleft him from groin to neck before decapitating him. "Sorry, Kitty-Cat," he said to the headless dragon. "Not fast enough."

With two dragons bubbling left and right, the last sentry, the purple-blue one, just watched, hardly interested. 

"Sorry, Greenthumb, looks like it's jus' not your day," Benny said, raising his weapon again.

"You should hold on to that," the dragon's voice came. Old Greenthumb was a female dragon, as it turned out. It can be hard to tell sometimes. 

With that, she shot up into the air and grabbed Benny in her talons. She really meant it; it was very difficult to hold on to his weapon now that it's slippery with blood. Meanwhile, the dragon dragged Benny up and up into the air, then veered towards the faux-castle the vampire had taken special care to avoid. 

Benny could hack and slash, then fall and be pulverized. He considered it, but the weapon was too slippery to be a sure thing. So all he could do was hang on and wait for his chance.

 

 **Earth**. September 17, 2013.  
Castiel waited impatiently in the war room. He distracted himself with work for a few hours. Then he preoccupied himself with cleaning. No matter how much he focused on tasks at hand, he couldn't stop feeling the weight.

He understood that humans experienced this. As if the purpose of every action had been blasted away, and suddenly pointlessness made even the smallest task very difficult. As an angel, Castiel had felt pain, guilt, even self-loathing. Whatever this was, it was worse than all three, because it robbed him of any kind of motivation.

The front door opened. Finally, Sam returned. Trying to keep his calm, he focused on the papers in front of him, writing about the angels.

Sam crossed into the war room and spotted Cas. 

"Hey," he said.

"Welcome home," Cas replied.

Sam gathered himself and sat across from the angel. After several minutes of him staring, Cas looked up and made eye contact.

"Dean told me staring is creepy," he commented mildly. 

"It is," Sam said but continued to stare. 

"I'm very uncomfortable," Cas admitted.

Sam said, "Dean is alive and being a snarky asshole."

"He is upset still," the angel responded. For some reason, this made him feel better, although he thought that it really shouldn't.

"Putting it lightly, Cas," Sam replied.

"You sound angry."

"Cas, what the hell happened?"

The angel had a very guilty look on his face. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?"

"Yes."

"Cas, Dean is in another state building a new safe house," Sam weighed in. He added a lie, "And he won't tell me, so you have to."

"Did Dean tell you about Benny?" Cas asked.

Sam felt heat rising in his face. "What about him?"

"The dream that Dean had," Cas continued. "He didn't tell you?"

Sam was getting the wrong impression. "Are you saying Dean and Benny were... together?"

Cas looked shocked. "No." The feeling of jealousy was just as bad as embarrassment. "Why do you ask?"

"Because of what you said!"

Cas wasn't sure how to respond, so he said, "Dean's nightmares are from Benny, trying to warn him about a demonic plot. Nothing about that means they're together." Without meaning to, he added, "Should I know something?"

Sam took a deep breath as he realized he'd been tangled up with two idiots. At least Cas's confusion was understandable. "No, I thought that's what you were implying."

"So, they're not?"

"No, no, no," Sam added for good measure. "And, demon's are locked away, so what demonic plot is he concerned about?"

"About them getting free through purgatory," Cas said casually. "I thought Dean had already told you this?"

Sam shot up, livid. The encounter with the strange, fire-wielding woman dropped out of his head. 

"No, he didn't," Sam barked. 

"That's not good." 

"Cas, you need to tell me everything," Sam said.

"I don't feel comfortable with that."

"I'm talking about the plot, Cas, that sounds like a pretty big deal," Sam said. 

Suddenly feeling foolish about his feelings and his moping, Cas sank in his chair. "I suppose I can do that."

 

The sun rose over the badlands, casting oddly shaped shadows all around the cabin. Dean paced around his work, inspecting everything. He had slept, dreamless, for a few hours. Part of him just wanted to cut and run straight to Maine, but he didn't.

He picked up his phone and dialed Garth.

"Hey-o Dean!" Garth yelled. "What's up?"

"Garth, gotta favor to ask you."

"Shoot."

"I'm heading out solo on a case," Dean said. "And Sam will jump in to help me, but right now he's got stuff he needs to deal with, you understand?"

"So, you need me on the case?"

"Oh, no, Garth, actually, I just wanted to make sure someone knew where I was," Dean admitted. "Someone who wouldn't hop-to and join me," he added for good measure.

"Hell yeah I can do that," Garth said. "Check in with me at noon and eight every day. Otherwise, I'll drop Sam an update."

"You won't tell him otherwise?" Dean asked. 

"Not if you don't want me to," Garth replied brightly. "I'm glad you called me with this."

Dean took a deep breath and reminded himself this was the right thing to do. This was him being smart. Mature. An adult. All that crap. "Even if he calls and asks, Garth, don't tell him, okay? Not unless I miss an update."

"Will do, Dean. Give my love to Sam and your angel buddy!"

"Right," Dean mumbled. "Thanks, Garth."

 

Sam had stupidly insisted on sleeping before heading out, which he should've known wouldn't be possible. It's one thing for Dean to keep relationship crap from him; it's another to keep hunter-related stuff from him. Cas was apologetic about the whole thing, and Sam actually felt badly for making him feel so guilty. Dean should have told him everything yesterday.

After enough tossing and turning, he grabbed his bag and headed down to the war room. 

"Are you ready now?" Cas asked.

"I'm heading back to the cabin Dean's working on now," he responded. "Since sleeping was a bust."

"We."

"What?"

"I'm coming with you," Cas said. 

"I promised Dean I'd keep you in the bunker."

"And he failed to mention impending danger to you," Cas said simply. "Which means he's probably doing something very unintelligent right now that he doesn't want you to know about."

Sam smiled. Cas might be oblivious on some things, but when it came to Dean, he was an expert. 

"That's probably true," he replied.

"Then you'll need my assistance."

"Cas – "

" – either I'm coming with you, or I'm going after him myself. The best way for you to keep your promise is to take me with you to ensure my safety," Cas said crisply. 

Had he really just been out-maneuvered by Cas? Sam wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or proud. 

"Okay, but – "

" – I promise to be as human as possible."

"Good, then, where's your bag?"

"Already in the car."

 

Sam and Cas pulled into the new cabin in South Dakota. They searched the grounds and checked for the Impala. Dean was gone. 

Biting his lip, Sam pulled open his cell and called his brother. 

"Dean, where are you?" he asked.

"At the cabin," Dean replied. "Like I said I'd be all week."

"Okay, well," Sam quickly decided to lie. "Cas agreed to stay at the bunker, but by the end of the week, you need to get back here, okay?"

Cas tilted his head in confusion. 

"Fine," Dean grunted. 

"You lied," Cas observed as Sam hung up. 

"So did he," Sam replied. 

"What are – "

" – Charlie gave us a way to track each other, and Dean spaced out during that update, so I'm hoping he didn't know to turn it off," Sam cut in, pulling out a tracking gadget Charlie had handed off to him. "This should help us find the Impala," he added to the still-confused Cas.

"But not Dean."

"No, but we find the Impala, we find Dean. He's on I-90 East near Madison, Wisconsin."

"What's in Wisconsin?" Cas asked.

"Probably nothing, he's still traveling," Sam responded. "Look, we need to catch up to him before he does something stupid."

"I agree."

"You remember how to drive?"

"Of course."

"Okay, I'm going to try to sleep for a few hours, you head east on I-90," Sam plotted. "Once I've rested up, we'll swap. Hopefully Dean will keep to his routine and find a motel tonight. We can catch up to him by not stopping."

Cas nodded. "You might need to show me how to add gas to the car," the angel pointed out.

"Then let's do that now. You drive," Sam threw him the keys.

 

 **Purgatory**. May 26, 2013.  
Greenthumb literally dropped Benny off in a high tower. He looked down the side of it; a straight drop hundreds of feet down. Only critters that could fly could get here. That dragon bastard. 

"You're not staying?" Benny bellowed up to the sky.

"No, she's not," a calm voice said behind him. 

He had immediately looked for an escape, and in so doing failed to take into account his surroundings proper. Along the opposite edge of the tower, a tall wall ran for a stretch. Sitting in the shade was an old-looking person. Benny couldn't make out a sex by way of visual or voice.

"An' you are?" he asked. 

"Adebowale."

"Sorr', what?"

"But most call me Crown," said the person. 

"And wha' are you exactly?"

Adebowale smiled a wide, devilish kind of smile, "Old."

"So tha' flyin' lizard dropped me here on your orders?"

"Heavens no," Adebowale replied. "What are you looking for, Benny?"

Benny shot a sideways look at the figure. The dragon did leave him with his blade. 

"How didya know my name?" 

"I am a diviner, a communicator, of sorts," said Adebowale. "Knowing things is just... who I am."

"Tha' righ'?" Benny asked skeptically. 

"You're looking to communicate with someone," Adebowale spoke softly now, forcing Benny to come closer. "Someone alive."

"An' wha' if I am?"

Adebowale's smile returned, "For a friend."

Benny made no reply to that, and he saw the smile fade from Adebowale's lips.

"You can communicate with the living, but the strongest tie is to who killed you."

"That's no problem, then," Benny said. 

Adebowale sat down along the edge of the wall and spoke again, "For your company, I'll teach you how to reach out beyond."

"My company?" Benny thought that was an odd price to pay.

"I've been alone a long time," Adebowale admitted. "The dragons rarely give me anyone to speak to. Sit with me and tell me stories about your life, and I will show you how to tell stories to the living."

"Huh," Benny replied. "Well, since it do'sn't look like I'm gettin' outa here anytime soon, why not?"

 

 **Earth**. September 18, 2013.  
Castiel drove east on I-90, just as Sam instructed. He successfully filled the tank with gas once and hoped he didn't need to again.

They'd just passed into Wisconsin when a fiery light popped up beside him. He turned his head, almost swerving, to see a young woman sitting next to him.

"Hello," she said. 

Cas replied, "It's rude to appear suddenly in a confined space."

"Sorry, but you haven't stopped moving in hours," she said. "I'm Kuravi."

Cas rolled his eyes.

"And you are an angel," she added. "I met your friends earlier today."

Cas wasn't sure if he should stop the car or not. "And who would that be?" he inquired casually. 

"Dean and Sam," she replied. "One of them's in the back."

"What makes you think we're friends?"

"One of them – not the one that's here, the other one – he smelled like you. That's how I bumped into him."

Cas didn't like any of this. Mysterious individual in the seat next to him, suddenly appearing and talking about Dean and his relationship. But he couldn't smite her, whatever she was, without drawing the attention of the angels. 

"Your friends kept trying to kill me," Kuravi added when Cas did not respond. "I tried to explain I'm not – "

"You should leave," Cas interrupted. "Kuravi is dead."

"No, I'm not."

"Then where were you for the past, what, billion years?"

"Imprisoned."

"I'm sure."

"The world has become very cynical since I've been gone," Kuravi commented. "Look, I'll prove it to you."

She shook herself, and down one arm, magnificent red and golden plumage appeared. She plucked two feathers, then quickly switched back to complete human form. She took a small glass jar and dropped the feathers in, blowing on them and turning them into ash.

"You know what this is?" she asked.

"Leave."

"If this is from me," she continued, "then all you have to do is mix it with holy water. Anyone else's... nothing will happen. You never know when you might need something like this. Especially since you don't seem to be using your powers right now."

"I said, leave," Cas pushed. 

Again, the car blazed up, and she was gone. The jar of ashes was not. 

"Cas," Sam mumbled through the back window from the truck bed/cap. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Cas lied quickly. "Go back to sleep."


	4. Side by Side

Dean kept driving through the night; he didn't want to stop. He knew he'd just toss and turn. The thought of working with some random hunter didn't make him feel any more secure, either. 

What other options did he have at this point? Sam said he was okay "leaving the door open" for Benny, but there's a big difference between that and actually bringing Benny back. 

After thirty hours of solid driving, he pulled into a motel in Maine. Andrew said he'd be along the next day, which gave Dean a day to dig up Benny's body.

 

Sam sat behind the wheel with Cas riding shotgun. 

Hazarding a chance, Sam said, "You know, Cas, this kind of thing happens."

"I know."

"You do?"

"Dean's off on his own doing something one or both of us would disapprove of, likely incurring personal injury."

Sam laughed hard at his answer, which startled Cas. 

"What?" the angel asked.

"That's true but not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"I mean, couples fight," Sam continued. "They break up. They get back together again."

Cas replied dryly, "I'm glad you feel that way."

"You should, too." When the angel didn't respond, Sam continued, "I can't get through to Dean, so I'm hoping to get through to you."

The angel looked out the passenger-side window and muttered, "I'm not the one you have to get through to."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned up The Who on the radio.

 

Dean secured Benny's remains inside a pine box; leaving him in the motel didn't seem like a smart play so he buried the box in a new shallow grave for later. 

Andrew came to Dean's room at the Limelight Motel around noon. He was barrel-chested and almost as tall as Sam, wearing jeans and a t-shirt. He had several rings on his fingers, and wore a necklace with a decorated cross on it. Dean didn't get a good look at it, though, as he tucked it under his shirt whenever it bobbed to the surface.

"You Dean Sampson?" Andrew asked through the door.

"Yeah, you Andrew Hickles?" 

"Yes."

Dean pulled the door open, and Andrew walked passed the Devil's trap painted under the carpet. As soon as he was inside, Dean shut the door behind him.

"Before we get started," Dean said. "I hope you don't mind." He had laid out a series of tests: silver blade, iron chain, salt, holy water, and borax to name a few. 

"As long as it's tit for tat," Andrew replied. 

At the very least, the hunter passed all the tests, even the anti-demon tests, which Dean kept for good measure. 

"Now, you said over the phone you were getting warnings from a dead someone?" Andrew asked.

"That's right," Dean replied. "And I've tried everything to get in contact with him. Otherwise I wouldn't be digging so damn hard."

"I understand."

"Andrew, if what my friend is telling me is true," Dean continued. "The demons locked in hell are trying to break through by cutting through purgatory."

"Can anyone get out of purgatory?" Andrew asked.

Dean lied, "I don't know. But he did mention that people, I'm guessing witches, are putting leashes on reapers."

Andrew furrowed his brow at this. "Sorry, it's just... I've never heard of anyone leashing a reaper. Is that even possible?"

Dean wanted to say that not only was it possible, he's dealt with it before, but he had decided to lie his ass off to this guy before he even met him and needed to stick to his guns. 

"Again, I don't know," Dean said. "But, you can bind spirits, so if the witch is powerful enough or the magic is right, why not a reaper, too?"

Andrew considered this. "So, you want to bring a dead guy back to life to make yourself feel better?"

Dean shifted forward. "I need to bring this guy back, because I can't get through to him any other way. If he's not sending me the nightmares, then my bad I guess, but if any of this is true, we need to know right now."

"I feel ya," Andrew remarked, relaxing. He did something with his phone, but Dean didn't know what. "I'll be straight up with you. I know a guy who can help you out, but he's real particular about who he works with, and he's not keen on being famous."

"I get that."

"Figured you might, you've been good about keeping your own head down, but I need to know you won't pass off his name, or my name, to anyone."

"Deal," Dean replied.

A knock at the door startled Dean.

"That's him," Andrew explained as he answered the door. Dean slid his hand over one of his guns, in case this was a bad turn.

A quiet looking younger man stood in the doorway. He had slight features, dark hair, and astonishing eyes. Dean wondered if this guy was a reaper of some kind; he definitely reminded Dean of one.

"This is Dean Sampson," Andrew introduced. "Dean, this is Kane."

Dean greeted, "Hi."

Kane entered and sat down at the table. "To be absolutely clear," he said, his voice soft and wispy, "no one can know about this."

"I get it," Dean said.

"Do you know where your friends remains are?" Kane asked. 

"General vicinity," Dean replied. "He's not in a, uh, sanctioned grave."

"Then let's hope he yells loudly," Andrew commented, "otherwise he'll suffocate."

Dean exhaled. 

"Is your friend contacting you from a particular place?" Kane asked.

"Purgatory," Dean answered.

Andrew tensed up. "Sorry, you want to resurrect a monster?"

"Benny, he's a vampire, but he was off human blood."

"Sure he was," Andrew clearly was ready to run.

"I get it, he's a monster, he's dangerous, but if he's sending me warnings, I think it's clear he's on humanity's side."

Kane didn't seem to mind either way. Andrew insisted, "If Kane helps you out, you need to keep us in the loop."

Dean nodded. "Of course, I could use the help."

"You have anything of his?" Kane asked, "For me to find him with?"

Dean pulled out Benny's cap, the one he'd been wearing when he died. "His blood is on this, and he wore it a lot."

"Very well," Kane said, taking it. 

Andrew and Kane left, and Dean saw them talking in the parking lot. He saw Andrew grab his necklace. Then Kane vanished.

Something about Andrew made Dean feel uneasy. There's a reason his brother had been so resistant to Benny's presence. Either this guy was an idiot, or something dodgy was going on. Overall, Dean felt glad he was suspicious of everybody, and he was especially glad he didn't let him know where Benny's remains were. 

Andrew knocked on the door again. He had two shovels. 

"We should get to that general vicinity you were talking about, so we can dig."

Dean grabbed his keys. "We should take separate cars," he said, heading out of the motel. "We'll be two people more out there, we'd be pretty cramped." Dean indicated the Taurus the other hunter drove. 

"This one's mine," Dean said pointing out his car. "Follow me."

 

"He's moving again," Cas said. 

"Do you have the address of where he stopped?"

"He stopped once out in the woods, and this other one has an address," Cas replied. 

"Okay, how far are – "

Sam's cell phone rang, interrupting him. "It's Dean," he told Cas. "Don't speak, okay?"

Cas nodded. 

"Dean?"

"Sammy, quick question."

"Okay."

"That faith healer guy," Dean started, "you remember that case? His wife – "

" – had a reaper on a leash, yeah," Sam completed. Owing to what Dean was keeping from him, he already hated this conversation.

"She had some kind of pendant, didn't she? That bound the reaper to her."

"A Coptic Cross."

"Can you remind me what that looks like?"

Sam sighed. "A cross with a circle around it, on the top portion of another, larger cross. Basically." He had to shush Cas's attempt at correction.

"Thanks, Sam."

"Wait, that's it?"

"Yeah."

"You call and ask about a pendant associated with a binding spell we've only seen once, and you don't need to tell me anything else?"

"Nope. Bye Sam."

Sam hung up. "We need to get to him now."

"Then we need to go to the woods, forty minutes away," Cas pointed to the GPS. "What do you think is going on?"

"He's talking about putting a reaper on a leash," Sam said. "Maybe I'm jaded, but he buried Benny in Maine. Now he's looking for a reaper or trying to bind one."

"Dean wouldn't do that," Cas said.

"I'd like to agree with you, Cas."

 

 **Purgatory**. August 1, 2013.  
"Ya know what, Adebowale," Benny said. "You don't make for bad comp'ny after all."

It happened to be true. Not only did Adebowale make no attempt to kill him, but he was well-versed in hundreds of stories. He taught Benny how to reach out to Dean, although he couldn't always reach him. 

"Some people are protected, or have protected places," Adebowale explained. "Try again."

Benny couldn't be sure how long he'd spent here. Without running and fighting, he had nothing to mark his days with. He told Adebowale about his days as a pirate and vampire and his days in love. He spoke about Dean. He spoke about his human life.

Benny didn't think he'd mind spending all his days here. Even though he still couldn't figure out if Adebowale was male, female, or otherwise. He felt pretty strongly, though, that Adebowale's species was dragon. 

"Tell me, Adebowale," Benny started, "how did you get way up here?"


	5. Howling More

**Earth**. September 20, 2013.  
Dean waited, shovel in hand, with Andrew, in an expanse of dirt in the Maine wilderness. 

"You buried your friend here?"

"This is where he died," Dean lied again. He waited. "Is Kane a reaper?"

Andrew shifted uncomfortably. "You told me you'd keep this to yourself."

"Sorry, just curious."

"Yes, Kane is a reaper."

The silence became uncomfortable. 

"He didn't by chance give you an ETA or - ?" Dean asked. 

"No."

"Right."

What happened next occurred too quickly for Dean to really recount. First came the POP! of a small caliber gun, which grazed Dean's back and sent him to the ground. CLICK! And the sound of crushed shrubbery. 

He looked up and saw a small grenade not nearly far enough from his body. Dean pushed himself up, forcing himself to forget the pain, and ran as fast and as far as he could. The explosion threw him head first into a tree and knocked him cold.

 

"How much farther?" Sam asked for the twentieth time. 

"Ten more minutes," Cas replied. 

"Okay, Cas, remember, whatever happens, you got to keep it as human as possible," Sam said.

"You've said that six times now."

"Grab the duffle from the back. We need to lock and load now," Sam said.

"You seem certain of the worst," the angel replied.

"Prepare for the worst, hope for the best," Sam said. 

Cas pulled the bag out from the cap. He pocketed two handguns and pulled out a shotgun. 

"You want anything in particular?" the angel asked the driver.

"I need another knife, a hand gun, and a machete." Sam hated how sleeping under the cap of his truck made him so unprepared.

 

Dean woke up tied to a tree. The pain in his left leg peaked, making him flinch. He looked down. His left leg ended near the top of his calf. The rest of it was somewhere in the brush.

"You're faster than I thought," Andrew remarked, leaning back against another tree.

"What the..." Dean tried to speak, but his words caught. He must have a few cracked ribs. 

Andrew got close to Dean and pulled out a small, evil-looking knife. It was closer to a long barbed nail than a blade. He put it to Dean's cheek. 

"I really need to know where your, uh, friend's remains are," he said. "Right now, I have to wait for Kane to return, then have him reap you and him... it's a big mess. But you tell me where he is, and you'll die a little more pleasantly."

"Eat me," Dean spat.

Andrew sized him up. "You know, I've never tried human flesh. Maybe I will start with yours."

He dragged the nail down Dean's face, slicing into his cheek and down to his chin. 

"Where are its bones?" he asked. 

"Fuck you," Dean choked out.

He was rewarded with a stab through the thigh. Andrew idly twisted the barbed instrument, making Dean feel like his flesh was turning on a spigot. 

He couldn't help it, he screamed. 

"I could do this for a while," Andrew said. He indicated the tourniquet he set on Dean's left leg. "I've got enough medical training to keep you alive and make this very unpleasant. But I'm not a sadist. Not really. I just don't like to wait."

With that he yanked the knife out, which made the wound wider and deeper. Dean screamed again, pitching this time.

 

Cas jolted in his seat. 

"What's up?" Sam asked.

Cas didn't respond. Instead, he dug through the duffle bag again and pulled out the flask of holy water. He pocketed it as well as the jar of ash.

 

Andrew took out a small mallet and a blunt, wide instrument that resembled a thick screwdriver. 

"There's really no need for this," Andrew spoke.

"Then why are you doing it?" Dean managed to spit out, blood kicking up with his words. 

"Can't let you and your buddy live knowing our little secret," he said. "And I just have this feeling you're not telling me something. Maybe you're a more experienced hunter than you're letting on, maybe you didn't find me for help... I'm not really sure what you're lying to me about, but you are definitely lying to me."

"Got that right," Dean chirped.

"Where are its bones?" he asked, posing the blunt object over Dean's remaining big toe. 

"Neverland."

Andrew landed the mallet on top of the faux-screwdriver. It severed Dean's big toe, and again he bellowed in pain.

He couldn't speak, so he thought instead. He thought a prayer to Cas. "Cas, I don't know if you can hear me, but I need help."

 

Cas squirmed in his seat, as if in pain.

"Cas, talk to me," Sam said. 

"Your brother, he's injured," Cas said, "and he just reached out to me."

"He prayed to you?"

"Silently. He might not be able to speak," the panic in Cas's voice built up. "I need to go to him."

"We're only a minute away."

"From the car, Sam," the angel snapped. 

"Shh," Sam rolled down the windows. They could hear screaming. Sam had seen Cas in his angel-of-the-lord mode, but that had nothing on him now.

"We do this the human way," Sam said. "We can't risk bringing more angels in on this."

Cas nodded. Then Sam said, "So here's what we do. I drive, you shoot."

Sam pulled his truck straight in after the Impala, leaving the windows down. Cas aimed the shotgun out the window, and when they came in sight of Dean, Andrew stood and turned, looking at the new arrivals. 

The first shot hit Andrew in the left shoulder, so he dropped the screwdriver-like instrument. The second hit him in the right shoulder. Then for good measure, Cas added shots to his kneecaps. 

Then the angel threw himself out the door, racing toward Dean. Sam pulled his machete and made his way over to Andrew, who flailed and screamed on the ground.

"Coptic Cross," Dean repeated, blood bubbling out of his mouth. He repeated it like a mantra.

"No," Andrew blubbered to Sam. "You can't! He'll reap us all."

Dean kept repeating even after Sam destroyed the cross and Kane reappeared. Andrew tried to speak, but Cas promptly shot him in the head, which Sam didn't even see coming. Kane smiled and reaped his would-be master without so much as another word.

"Dean," Cas whispered. "Can you hear me?"

But he kept repeating the words "Coptic Cross."

"Dean," Sam's voice was next. "Hell, what happened to him?"

"He's missing three toes, part of one leg, and has several very unpleasant stab wounds. His head injury isn't helping the matter."

"Cas?" Dean muttered. "You can't heal me here." This became his new mantra, as if he was afraid Cas wouldn't remember. 

The angel pulled out the flask of holy water and jar of ash. "Sam, do you have any cloth we can use?"

Sam scrambled to the truck and pulled out some of the towels they'd use for bandages. When he handed them off to Cas, he spread the ash on the towel then kneaded the water in so it became a paste. 

"We need the other part of his leg, if you can find it," he told Sam. 

Sam had already spotted it not far from them. He raced over and picked it up gingerly. 

"What are you doing?" Sam asked, approaching the very focused angel and his brother.

"I'm not sure if it will work," the angel replied.

"That's not an answer," Sam pushed.

Cas took the severed limb and put it up against its proper place; then he wiped the ash paste over the wound. The flesh began to knit itself back together, and Cas let out a laugh of relief. He removed the tourniquet and moved on to the three toes. Slowly but surely, Cas put Dean back together. 

Dean seemed to wake up after the stab wounds to his legs healed. He felt his ribs pop back into place, and his breathing became better. "Stop," he said. "Stop, stop!"

Cas obeyed. "Dean?"

Sam leaned in, "You okay man?"

"You let him out of the Bunker, and now he's healing me out in the open?" Dean spat at his brother.

"Your welcome for saving your life," Sam replied crossly. 

"I'm not healing you with my powers," Cas replied.

"What?"

Cas moved the rag over his face and head. He didn't want to see that gapping slash anymore, and Dean's head injury was severe. They, too, knit themselves back together.

"If I was using angelic powers, the other angels would already be here," Cas explained. He went to wipe down Dean's arms.

"No, hell no, we should be getting out of here," Dean snapped. 

"You're still injured," Cas pointed out. 

"I can walk and drive," Dean said. He looked at his arms. He might need stitches, but otherwise he'd be fine. "And this doesn't require magic."

Cas insisted on driving, which Dean tried to argue with until Cas flourished with rage. Then Dean plunked into the backseat, and Sam followed the Impala back to the motel.

 

 **Purgatory**. September 21, 2013.  
Benny leaned back against the wall. Adebowale sat next to him, humming a very old melody.

"You know wha', Adebowale?" Benny said listlessly. "I wouldn't mind staying here forever." It happened to be true.

"Forever?" Adebowale mused. "Benny, do you know where you are?"

"Purgatory."

"I mean where you are within purgatory."

"Natta clue," Benny admitted.

"This is the place souls come to be reborn," Adebowale explained. "One way or another."

"Reborn?" Benny asked. "That actually happ'ns? Rebrith."

"Depending on the soul, yes."

"So you're going to be reborn?"

Adebowale laughed. It was a sweet sound, like bird song. "No."

"Then what'r'you talkin' 'bout then?" Benny asked, his brow knit. 

"You understand more than you know."

The sky around them turned a deep, bloody red. Ash and flame cascaded all around, as if a storm of flame encapsulated everything.

"Don't fret too much about it all, Benny," Adebowale said over the resounding sound of the storm. 

Benny looked up to see a pillar of fire spiraling towards him; ash filled his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and fire pricked his flesh. When the storm cleared, Adebowale again sat alone on the highest tower.

 

 **Earth**. September 20, 2013.  
Sam was too angry to help, so Cas stitched up Dean's wounds in the motel room. 

"I dislike hurting you," Cas remarked as he pulled through another stitch. "I could just – "

" – no, no more magic healing, we can't risk it," Dean replied.

"Now you care about risks?" Sam barked. "What were you even thinking?"

"I was thinking," Dean said, wincing at the next stitch, "that I should confirm the message some Baku bitch gave me before ruining our lives."

"You do realize that if Cas hadn't told me about the dream, you'd've been slowly tortured to death." 

"Yeah, I got that."

"Sam's right," Cas remarked. "You were incredibly foolish to go out on your own."

"What were you even doing?"

Dean licked his lips and said, "Trying to find a way to bring Benny back."

"And you just bumped into a guy who had a reaper on a leash?" Sam pressed.

"I got his name from another dream," Dean replied. "And, no, I didn't trust him."

"Then how did you end up nearly dying in the woods?" Sam asked. 

"He had a freaking grenade," Dean snapped. "Forgive me if I didn't see that coming."

Sam paced. "You know what, Dean? It's one thing to lie to me about whatever's going on between you two or lie about where you are. But going off trying to find a reaper that'll bring Benny back? Meeting up with some guy whose name you got in a dream?"

"If I thought I needed help, I'd've called you."

Sam's phone rang, interrupting the argument. "Garth? Oh, no, Dean's... I'm with him now. Yeah, thanks." He hung up.

"See, I set up a thing with Garth," Dean pointed out. 

"And if I got that back in Kansas or South Dakota? You'd still be dead, Dean!" Sam yelled back.

Dean's ears were ringing. "Could you not yell?"

Sam stormed out of the room to his truck. He returned with a bag, which he dropped on the second motel bed. 

"You know what Dean? I'm the one that needs space now," Sam snapped. He left and got in his truck. 

"That must be my bag," Cas said mildly, finishing the stitch on Dean's left arm. "I need your other arm."

 

After thirty minutes, Cas finished suturing Dean's injuries. "I wish you'd let me use the salve on you," Cas said again. 

"What is this stuff?" Dean asked. 

"Ash and holy water."

Dean turned his head. "Ash and holy water reattached my freaking leg?"

"It's very special ash," Cas explained.

"Enlighten me."

"From a phoenix. The first phoenix."

"You mean the Alpha phoenix?" Dean asked.

Cas turned his head. "Eve's firstborn offspring were Alphas, but the phoenix is not of her kin."

"They're not?"

"The ash of the phoenix burns Eve," Cas reminded Dean. "The phoenix are like Leviathan, made by God before humans and other creation."

"Where did you get ash from the first phoenix?" Dean asked. 

Cas didn't reply. 

After a few moments of silence, Cas said, "I heard you."

Dean froze. "Sorry."

"You can always call to me," Cas said. "No matter what."

Dean wanted to reach out and touch Castiel, but he didn't have to. Cas took his hand, "I missed you."

"Cas, we've already talked about this. You don't know what'll happen – "

"Neither do you," Cas cut him off. "Dean, if you want to leave because you're unhappy with me, with us, then go."

"I'm not unhappy with you," Dean replied. "This is bigger than that."

"You're afraid," Cas observed. 

"Don't you care what happens to you? If you cut out your grace, what if you don't have a soul? After you die – "

" – there'd be nothing." Cas concluded. "And you'll be in heaven."

Dean turned away. "How can it be heaven if you're not there?" It was less than a whisper.

Cas didn't understand Dean's sudden panic. He'd shared Deans thoughts, seen his awe, felt his sensation of minuteness. He understood that Dean had been shaken, but he knew Dean, a man who lived through forty years of hell, a year in purgatory, and kept fighting for his friends, his family. 

Instead, Cas changed topics. "Where is Benny?"

"Still dead," Dean replied. "I moved his remains yesterday and left a phone next to him. He'd've called by now if Kane brought him back."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too," Dean replied. "I need some sleep. I'll drive you back to the bunker tomorrow."

Cas couldn't bring himself to smile. "You said you need space. Driving together for a day and a half isn't conducive to space."

"I guess not," Dean admitted. Finding out the angel didn't want to spend time with him felt like he'd been punched in the gut with disappointment. "But how else will you get back to the bunker?"

"I'll wait here. As soon as Sam returns to the bunker, he can open the door, and I'll teleport back." 

Dean looked at him, "You don't have to do that, man – "

"It's best," Cas said. "I'll let you sleep."

The angel disappeared grabbed his bag and went to check out his own motel room. Misery crept into Dean's throat and made him hoarse. He crawled into bed and tried to put it all out of his head.

 

Sam crashed overnight in Chicago. 

In the morning, he pulled up his e-mail he used to communicate with Dodge. Admittedly, Sam had read them all already, but he double-checked the last one she'd sent him. 

She was in Chicago on some big case, and she wasn't sure how long she'd be away. It might be weeks before she could send him any new cases. He replied to her message and wrote the following:

Dear DDG:

I'm in Chicago on R&R and some downtime. I might be here for a few days. Be nice to meet up in person if you have the time. 

SW

Sam hesitated to send the e-mail. He'd purposely waited between cases Dodge found in case Dean cottoned on to his new working relationship. But why should he be afraid to invest in a partnership? With Dean's ridiculousness, it felt right to Sam to have a secret from his brother.

 

 **Earth**. September 21, 2013.   
In the morning, Cas checked each of Dean's thirty stitches. Then he saw him off, making sure he got back on the road in one piece. 

Afterwards, Cas tracked down Benny's remains. The average angel would've been tried by this task, but Cas knew Dean all too well. Out in the woods, Cas identified a marked tree. Dean had done the same thing when he buried someone he couldn't save. The angel walked forty paces due east from the mark and found freshly dug earth. He wasted no time in digging up the casket. 

Then he pulled out the jar Kuravi gave him in the car yesterday. He summoned the will to whisper out, "Kuravi?"

Flame licked the air. Kuravi appeared next to him. "I knew you'd call," she said.

"It's true, the ash you gave me was from Kuravi," the angel stated. "But you could be any phoenix with slight of hand."

Kuravi suddenly noticed the pine casket in front of them. "I take it you called me here for a reason?"

"If you are who you say you are," Cas said, "that means you can pull a soul out of purgatory and raise up his body whole."

She looked impressed. "You've been hitting the books, kid. Not many people know that."

"I need certainty that you are who you say you are," Cas explained. 

Kuravi sized the angel up. "Do you know why I came to you?"

"To ask for help," the angel replied. "Why else would you be looking for an angel?"

"I was imprisoned for a very long time," she said. "The demons who kept us there suddenly disappeared, and I escaped. I spent weeks trying to break the others out."

"The others?" 

"Two angels like you," she said. "I think a deity, but I'm not sure who he is. And Ruach."

Cas didn't hide his surprise. "That can't be right. She died billions of years ago."

"Yesterday you said the same thing about me."

"Kuravi could still be dead," Cas insisted. 

"You want me to raise up a monster to prove who I am?"

"He is a vampire," Cas said, "but he is not a monster."

Kuravi turned her head. "Will this be enough for you? To prove who I am?"

"Yes."

"And will you then help me free my friends?"

Cas nodded, "I will."

Kuravi disappeared; this time not with fire and flame, but with embers and ash. The ashes curled around Benny's bones. The embers flared up and up and smoke rose into the sky. The earth shook as energy suddenly zeroed in on the vampire's remains. 

With a spark, then a flame, then a fire, Benny's body erupted back into this world. Kuravi stood not far from him, smiling at her achievement.

Cas handed Benny a long coat, which he happily accepted. Before he could make introductions, Kuravi's fire burned again, and she was gone.

"Gotta say, Cas," Benny admitted, "I didn't thin' I'd be seein' your face."

The angel didn't say anything, just motioned for Benny to follow him and walked back to the motel.


End file.
